


Six Degrees of Association

by snarechan



Series: Gladnoct Week (2018) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Gladnoct Week, Humor, M/M, gladnoct - Freeform, gladnoctweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: It all started for want of saving a bookstore, but Noctis didn’t have to know that.





	Six Degrees of Association

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have any ideas worth investing in for the second day of [Gladnoct Week](https://gladnoctweek.tumblr.com/), but I'm returning with vengeance on **Day Three: Bookshop/Tattoo Parlor AU**. Although, it wasn't until later (like, eighteen or so pages later) that I realized I was maybe supposed to refer to _both_ careers. Whoopsiedoodle. 
> 
> The story turned out less like an alternate universe and more like a canon divergence, too. Instead of having Noct work at a cafe as a server I wanted to explore how and why he might have ended up at a bookstore, instead. I also wanted to play with Gladio’s notorious pension for meddling in other people’s affairs, similar to his in-game morning sidequest of getting Noct to gather flowers for his little sister. XD; Gladio can be scarily observant and crafty when he wants to be… Sometimes I wonder if his favorite pastime is to see how long he can get away with omitting facts and goading others into doing nice things, hah hah. 
> 
> Everybody give it up for my beta reader, Glyphenthusiast, who saw the insane amount of pages making up this monster and conquered it for us all. I’d also like to thank Demishock for putting up with my blathering research on food. A strange thing to say about a Bookstore AU, but it’ll make sense later!

Prompto sniffed at the cold air as he stood next to Noctis in an allway of downtown Insomnia. Noctis hadn’t insisted he come, or even had to  _ask_ , for his friend to accompany him to the first day of his part-time job. But he’d invited himself along, under the guise of documenting Noctis’ induction to the city’s workforce.

They stood outside his soon-to-be place of employment. The storefront was nondescript, not even a window or sign hanging over the door to mark the presence of  _Madam’s Book Emporium_. A quill pen poised over an open book was stenciled on the adjacent wall, the only thing to signify what might lie beyond the rusted entrance.

To be honest, Noctis wasn’t that impressed so far, either.

Over dinner last week his father had insisted Noctis find a means to integrate himself into their kingdom’s society and ‘learn the strife and spirit of his people’ firsthand. Naturally, he went to Ignis for advice. Noctis had hoped for a volunteer gig where he could dictate his own hours, but after a day of intensive research Ignis had come back with a gleam in his eye and a listing for an entry position as a sales clerk.

His advisor had sold him pretty hard on the simplicity of the job and the fact there wasn’t a strict dress code. Noctis had barely offered a tentative agreement before Ignis confirmed he’d already contacted the owner with the prince’s resume and secured him the spot. It wasn’t clear if Noctis was  _that_ predictable and easily swayed by such simple requirements or if he should be insulted that Ignis had assumed everything for him, but Noctis hadn’t argued. For all of Ignis’ assumptions, he  _had_ spared Noctis the torture of an interview.

So maybe Noctis wasn’t sure what to expect, but all the same this place seemed underwhelming. He’d pictured somewhere with a coffee bar, like the chic shops near the Citadel. Or something that wasn’t cast out in the recesses of a side street where he was liable to contract tetanus from just touching a door handle.

“Whelp. This is it,” Prompto said, giving Noctis an encouraging fist bump in the arm. “Knock'em dead, or whatever.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Noctis raised his chin. If he pretended he was about to enter the den of one of his father’s political meetings rather than the bookstore, it might be easier to confront. With a final selfie (where he and Prompto posed in front of the door, each of them shrugging exaggeratedly), Noctis took his initial step inside.

Shelves and shelves of deep, stained wood lined the entire layout. Books were displayed wherever they could fit – in neat little rows, layered on top of each other, in  _front_ of other books. Some were even organized into straight piles on the floor. The place smelled of musty pages and leather.

It was also, unsurprisingly, deserted.

There wasn’t a single customer, nor did Noctis see anyone that might be identifiable as the owner. He deflated as no one was there to witness his entrance. Noctis debated on waiting by the door until someone greeted him, but opted to wander the aisles towards the checkout desk in the hopes of running into someone.

The register was the only updated piece of equipment in the store. A rickety filing cabinet and barstool for the teller to use had been stationed behind the counter. Noctis waffled on whether or not he was technically permitted back there yet, and decided if the proprietor didn’t want strange, new employees to utilize the space they shouldn’t have left it unattended.

A short line of various shaped hooks were tacked to the wall where a tan duffle coat already hung. Noctis removed his own jacket, scarf, gloves, and undercoat to place them on the furthest hook. With that done, he once again found himself at a loss of what he was expected to do.

Past the filing cabinet was a thin doorway with a beaded curtain. He’d almost missed seeing it, until someone very tall and wearing a black silk robe with a white coeurl on the back of it eased their way through the curtain. They hummed a tune deep in their throat and carried a small stack of paperbacks.

It quickly became awkward. They didn’t notice Noctis standing there yet and as more time went by it felt weirder for Noctis to announce his presence. The choice to present himself was taken out of his hands when they turned to access the top drawer of the filing cabinet for some kind of label, and let out a squawk that had Noctis jumping in his shoes.

They dropped their books and supplies to lay a hand over their chest. “My word! I didn’t hear you come in. I hope I didn’t leave you waiting very long.”

Slowly shaking his head, he tentatively asked, “Madam of  _Madam’s Book Emporium?_ ” With a start, Noctis realized he should probably assist them with retrieving their items and kneeled down to pick everything up.

“The one and only!” She tittered, waving a well-manicured hand at him. “And you must be Noct! It’s  _sooo_ good to finally meet you face-to-face.”

She crouched down with him to help. This close, Noctis could identify the exact tattoos on her face. There were three dotted, parallel lines with tiny arrows at the ends of them, all high on her cheekbones. Their appearance reminded Noctis of whiskers on a cat.

“Well come on in, then. I’ve got scones baking in the oven – we can share them while I go over your duties, hm?”

Dutifully, he got up and followed her. He’d been left with the pile of paperbacks and labels, so he brought them along as they walked through the string of beads into an office…slash breakroom…slash Noctis didn’t know what. It wasn’t quite a kitchen nor was it any of the other descriptors.

A small L-shaped countertop butted up against a small fridge. An antique espresso machine resided next to a toaster oven, where the aforementioned scones were rising. In the center of the room was a round table covered in paper files and a clunky laptop. More books, these stored in boxes, littered the entire room.

While Madam busied herself pouring out two cups of tea Noctis took a seat in one of the mismatched chairs. His was a metal one that he swore was missing a leg, but it was steady under him so he paid it no mind. Unsure what else to do, Noctis placed his load of materials on the table next to another group of books.

“Here you go. I’m afraid the scones have a ways to go yet, so have some tea,” she said, offering him a mug.

Noctis took a hesitant sip. Winter break had only started for him and his classmates, marking the beginning of the cold season. It rarely snowed this far North in Eos, but the temperatures had dropped lower than average this year. He welcomed the opportunity to warm up with a drink that wasn’t bitter coffee or  _worse_. Noctis wasn’t one for tea, but Madam’s was sugary and smooth, coating his insides. He drained the entire cup.

“O-kay!” Madam said, clapping her hands as if announcing an important meet-and-greet. “Your recruiter told me you’ve never worked part-time before?”

“That’s right,” he said, gently setting down his mug. Resuming his earlier mentality of joining a faux-council meeting, Noctis placed both hands on his knees under the table. It was a trick he’d learned to keep from wringing his sweaty hands.

“Ah, what a dear, dear gentleman he was over the phone.  _So_ thorough,” she gushed. “I promised him I’d be nice to you in exchange, hah hah. Is a little register training okay? Then we can go over inventorying next time!”

Noctis thought about her offer and didn’t see anything wrong with the plan. He tended to catch on quick and could conceivably do both today, but the option to take it  _easy_ …

“Yes, that seems amicable.”

“ _Amicable_ he says. How droll! Of course, of course.” She reached over to pat him on the arm, revealing more tattoos on her wrist similar in design to the ones on her face. Madam then generously poured him some more tea, filling the entire container. “You finish that up and then we can get started.”

The rest of his shift passed like that. Noctis was shown the inner and outer workings of the register. Although it’d looked new, it was only in comparison to the rest of the equipment in the store. There were several… _quirks_ that Madam had to demonstrate for him to get it to ring orders correctly, such as smacking it twice to get the cash drawer to open up whenever someone paid with certain coinage.

At twenty minutes until Noctis was scheduled to leave, she’d left him to practice on his own while she busied herself in what she fondly referred to as her 'sanctuary’, or the backroom. During the four-some hours he’d been there they hadn’t been interrupted by anyone, the place remaining empty. Noctis figured he’d spend the remainder much like that, numbly tapping buttons on the register to test different inputs, but a shadow passed over the checkout counter.

“Yo,” Gladiolus greeted him.

As he bent over the counter, Gladiolus rested his chin on the heel of his hand. He wore a hoodie and possibly nothing else underneath, if the patch of skin behind the unzipped portion of his attire was anything to go by. It was infuriating how he could get away with almost zero layers of clothes while Noctis’ body wanted to shrivel up and die at the barest hint of a drop in temperature.

Noctis straightened from his slouched position and leaned back in his seat to adequately glare at him. Even hunched over and Noctis still wasn’t eye level with him. Accusingly, he asked, “What, you checking up on me, too?”

He’d expected this sort of conduct from certain people, but not Gladiolus. Ignis had already texted him a reminder to be on his 'best royal behavior’ and to inform him when he needed to be chauffeured home. The notices from Prompto hadn’t been so bad, at least. Noctis had received a copy of the photos his friend took earlier and a bunch of cheerleader emojis after his inquiries.

That Gladiolus had  _personally_ seen to visiting him, as if Noctis couldn’t be trusted to survive on his own, was beyond irritating. At this rate, he figured his father would be sending the Crownsguard to check up on him next. He’d lived alone in his apartment and mastered how to tie his own shoelaces and everything, so the hovering was entirely unnecessary.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m a frequent shopper here,” Gladiolus said. It was then that Noctis took notice of the small tower of books at Gladiolus’ elbow. There were some older, leather bound volumes on the bottom that were several hundred pages thick and wide enough to support two paperbacks side-by-side on top.

Unconvinced, he said, “Really. You just so happen to buy all your boring romance crap where I work now?”

As if in divine intervention, Madam floated out of the backroom carrying a tray of scones and jam. She let out a cheer, it directed at the sight of their sole customer. “Gladdy! My darling sweetheart, you’re early this week.”

“Hey, Madam. I wanted to pick up those true crime novels as soon as they dropped. Did you get my order in yet?” Gladiolus asked. And although she was practically as tall as him (both accounts to Noctis’ eternal regret), Gladiolus didn’t straighten up all the way when she went to envelope him in a hug and kiss both his cheeks. Over her shoulder, Gladiolus’ expression was vindicated and  _smug_ when he sent it Noctis’ way.

“Yes, of course! I already set them aside for you. I’ll go grab them now,” Madam said, releasing him from her embrace. To Noctis, she wagged a pointed fingernail and asked, “Be a dear and start ringing Gladdy up, won’t you? He’s our best customer, so please take excellent care of him! I’ll be right back.”

Madam exited the same way she’d come: in a flurry of silk sleeves and perfume. Hearing the nickname earlier had Noctis off kilter. The only other person that got away with calling him 'Gladdy’ and lived to tell about it was Gladiolus’ younger sibling, Iris, for obvious reasons.

In her absence, Gladiolus said, “Yeah Noct, take  _excellent_ care of your  _best_ customer.”

“Stop,” Noctis seethed under his breath, not wanting to chance his boss overhearing him. With a strength imbued by his anger, he scooted the whole pile of books toward him and rapid-fire entered the prices manually into the register.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“ _Stop enjoying this._ ”

Madam bustled out with another set of books, these with shiny sleeves and dark, ornate colors. An empty cello bag was on top. “Here you go! It wasn’t easy getting these shipped from Lestallum mind you, but anything for my number one boo!”

While Noctis added the price of the other two books to Gladiolus’ total, she tucked his purchases into brown paper sleeves. She also put one of the scones in the plastic bag and tied it off with some ribbon. “And here, have a little something extra.”

“Thanks,” Gladiolus said, accepting all the bags after paying. He made a point of paying with cash, Noctis forced to resort to the double-tap method Madam had shown him when the machine locked up. Though he spoke in response to Madam, Gladiolus winked at Noctis when he said, “See you Friday, like usual.”

With the owner looking the other way, Noctis pulled a face and directed the full force of it in Gladiolus’ direction. It was that or  _gag_.  
  
  
  
  
The front door opened and closed several times, but Noctis didn’t notice. He was too deep in his winter studies homework, the task out of self-preservation as opposed to necessity. There were weeks left in his school holiday; by this point, that was  _more_ than ample time to hang out with Prompto, visit the arcade, or sleep, and still complete his studies before classes started back up.

But the store was slow. Achingly, excruciatingly, painfully so. Noctis was a fast learner and understood all there was to sales.

Madam confessed that she was more behind in organizing her stock than anything else – as evidenced by the amount of books overflowing the place. Lugging materials around and cataloging them only took up so much of his time, though. He’d already organized and re-organized everything in a desperate attempt to make the days go by, leaving him with long stretches between customers with nothing to do. Madam was kind enough to allow him to work on assignments when there weren’t important tasks to be completed.

She’d looked forlorn at the time, staring wistfully at the door. While Noctis didn’t mind the lack of social expectations, he found himself feeling sympathetic. No people meant no money. He wondered (and sort of worried) how the store even stayed open, much less how he was earning a paycheck. In the ten days he’d been employed, Noctis had maybe served a handful of customers.

He was in the middle of contemplating the merits of accepting the tarts Madam was making as payment instead of a check when a giggle brought him out of his revere. Three girls congregated near a shelf of books toward the front. They were young – not much older than Gladiolus’ little sister. They whispered amongst themselves, periodically glancing in his direction.

 _Damn_ , Noctis lamented. He closed his textbook so as to concentrate. He was almost finished with the entire break’s worth, but he supposed being on the clock meant he should at least pretend he was an interested salesman. Earning them an actual income would alleviate his earlier concerns, too.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

The girls went completely silent.

Noctis tried not to scowl as he repeated the question, but it was annoying to be stared at so intently. The girl standing in the center of the group finally averted her gaze, glancing back-and-forth until she spotted a hardcover book propped up on a display table. She snatched it up and marched over to him, slamming it on the desk to announce, “I would like to pay for this one, please.”

While her friends stared in respective awe and shock, Noctis merely glanced at the cover for the price tag. It was a book on frogs; a wise choice, he decided, albeit not what he’d expect of someone wearing a plaid teddy bear backpack and fuzzy hairclips. But what did he know? Amphibians might be what’s trending for twelve-year-old girls.

He entered the total into the till and read it off to her. The edition was a limited quantity run and a hardcover, meaning it came to a hefty sum. The girl pouted, but swiped a credit card for it. While he waited for the receipt to print for her, she asked, “So, um. This might be weird, but…” She paused to glance towards her friends for some kind of signal or assistance, but receiving neither, she continued, “do people say you look like the prince?”

Accustomed to that kind of question, he didn’t even pause in tearing the receipt free of its roll and holding it out for her to take. “I get that a lot, yeah.” All three girls stared at him expectantly for more, but Noctis just asked, “Will that be all for you?”

The girl mumbled a negative and rejoined her friends, the group wandering off. When they reached the exit they started in at once, speaking in hushed tones amongst themselves.

“I  _told you_  it couldn’t possibly be him—”

“No way! It definitely was.”

“But the hair is all wrong…”

“You’re both just jealous 'cause I got to talk to him in person and you didn't—”

The door shut out their conversation. Used to hearing that sort of thing also, Noctis ignored it just the same. He resumed his studies, but it wasn’t more than fifteen minutes later that another group came in. This batch were a little older; one of them Noctis recognized from his own school. They wanted to gawk at  _him_ more than browse their selection. This happened several more times throughout the hour, their interruptions closer in proximity. By the fifth stuttering pre-teen Noctis was exhausted.

Pushing his stool back hard enough for the legs to scrape along the floor, Noctis got to his feet. He ducked his head past the beaded curtain to see Madam putting the finishing touches on some kind of tarts. Normally, Noctis would leave Madam to her work but the rapid  _whoosh_ of the door opening and closing reminded him why he was here.

“Is it okay if I take my break now?” he asked.

“Hm? Oh, sure-sure! Go right ahead,” Madam said, concentrating on the desserts. The robe she’d worn today had layers upon layers of fringe, so she’d rolled up and tucked her sleeves back to keep them from ending up in the food. Noctis waited, but when she went on adding lemon zest to the tarts he cleared his throat.

“I don’t want to leave the sales floor unattended during busy hours. Would it be okay if you took over?” Noctis asked.

Madam stared quizzically at him – then it was as if her entire body lit up. She hurried over and parted the curtain far above his head, bowing over him. Noctis had to scurry back or risk suffocation in the many cuts of fabric as she loomed over him. She spotted all the people not-so-subtly milling about. Gasping, Madam let the strings of beads jingle closed. “Oh. My.  _Goodness_.”

She busied straightening the loose hairs that had come out of her braids, muttering the same phrase as before with mounting enthusiasm. Madam loosened the ties keeping back her sleeves, still talking excitedly to herself, and went to leave the room. Catching herself, she rushed into the backroom to retrieve the tray of freshly completed tarts. Noctis almost didn’t step aside fast enough to prevent being run over as she bustled into the adjoining space, flitting between customers to offer them food or her assistance.

Shrugging to himself, Noctis figured everything was well in hand and disappeared to grab his lunch. Ignis had prepared him some stuff in advance; just a sandwich and rice balls. Both items featured tuna, so his advisor must have gotten a deal somewhere. The rice balls were mixed with mayonnaise. If they were like anything he’d tried before then it’d have a savory flavor, but it melted in his mouth so he supposed it was alright. A container of homemade chips were on the bottom of the rest, although Noctis suspected they weren’t of the potato variety and would be 'overlooked’.

He carried his food outside. There was a rear exit that led into a small courtyard. It was laden with fragmented and displaced bricks, dating back to the previous decades before all the roads were paved to make way for cars. The back of the bookstore and the neighboring building created too much shade to allow for plants, but there was a patio table with two chairs set up for anyone to enjoy. Noctis sat down on the cement step instead and whipped out his phone to browse while eating.

He was mid-chew of his grilled tuna sandwich when a cheerful greeting alerted him to company. Iris waved at him from the gate. Gladiolus stood behind her, along with another girl he didn’t recognize. Once Iris had his attention she grabbed the other girl’s hand and jogged over. Her brother’s approach was much more sedate, the filled cup carrier maybe having something to do about that.

Noctis discretely tried to swallow his mouthful of food without choking before replying. He also tucked his cell away, but remained seated. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I told Iris that you’re finally contributing to society. She wanted to run right over to congratulate you,” Gladiolus said, earning him a harsh jab in the side by Iris.

“ _We_ wanted to say congrats. Gladdy here is the one who wouldn’t shut up about it to everybody,” Iris said. Her smile became less teeth and more genuine as she brought attention to the other girl. “Noct, this is Elise. She’s in my grade.”

“Hello Elise,” he said. She hung back, but offered a big wave and smiled with her tongue out.

Iris continued, “Her parents run the boba cart here and they wanted to welcome you to the  _Crepera_ family! I hope you don’t mind.”

 _Crepera_ was the name of the street running parallel to the shop (and, consequently, named after Noctis’ great, great, many greats aunt). He knew exactly which place Iris referred to because most of this side of town was boarded up or closed, making it easy to pick out who was or wasn’t open. Many of the shops had moved to the restoration district closer to the Citadel, but there were a few stubborn holdouts, such as Madam and apparently Elise’s folks.

He’d even seen the girl before, though she’d been in a work uniform and at a distance. Her spray tan and dyed blonde hair made her hard to miss. Noctis had never gotten her name until now; he tended to walk from the other direction. If Gladiolus was chaperoning the both of them, then Elise must have been a close friend, indeed.

“We’re, like, known for our 'fruit salad’,” her companion finally spoke up, her tone rising and falling at the end of each statement. “It’s made with a sample of all our fruit-flavored pearls. And, ya know, enhanced with honeydew syrup.”

That would explain the drinks Gladiolus was carrying. He handed one over to Noctis now, it a mix of different colored bobas matching Elise’s description. Noctis accepted it to not seem rude, but he made a pleased grunt at the taste. As promised, it resembled a fruit salad, minus all the gross pulpy bits.

“Awesome,” he complimented.

Elise glowed at the praise, opening up about her family’s business as they all partook of their respective drinks. Iris took a bright pink one with neon green pearls at the bottom while Elise’s was white and orange. She’d created it herself and explained that it ‘totally’ tasted like a creamsicle.

“What’s  _that_ one?” Noctis asked, staring at Gladiolus’ dark and foreboding one. It was a deep purple with heaps of pearls coating the bottom.

Gladiolus offered it to him without a word, earning him a dubious look from Noctis. He swirled the cup around in invitation. As if Noctis couldn’t take a hint, Gladiolus said, “Try it and see.”

At the challenge, Noctis took a large sip. His taste buds were hit with black tea first, then a pop of something else. It was creamy, sort of, before the tapioca kicked in. Yeah, if Gladiolus had described it to him, he’d  _never_ have sampled that assortment. Grudgingly, if only to himself, Noctis had to admit the bitter flavor of the black tea was balanced by the sweeter tastes.

“It’s taro root,” Iris clarified, her face scrunching in obvious disgust. “Only my health-nut of an older brother would ever bother.”

“Weirdo,” Noctis agreed. Not that it mattered; Gladiolus smirked around the straw they’d shared to show he saw right through him.

They hung out until the end of his break. It was fifteen minutes, although it felt way shorter than that. After they said their goodbyes, Noctis trudged back inside, not looking forward to any of it.

The crowds had thinned a little bit in his absence, which was a small blessing. He set his drink a safe distance from his work area as he resumed his place at the register since Madam was still socializing to her heart’s content. She looked happier today than she’d been yesterday. Another blessing, Noctis supposed.  
  
  
  
  
In five  _glorious_ minutes they would be locking up. This was the first instance in which Noctis was scheduled to close, though it wasn’t  _really_ that far in the evening. There were some vestiges of daylight left, but the alteration to his routine had him ready to decompress at his apartment the moment he walked through the door.

Tuesdays were typically slow – or slower than usual – so Madam held book drives to strum up business. He’d volunteered to come in past his normal shift to assist her. It turned out his presence was desperately needed. Madam was  _just_ putting the finishing touches on sorting the last couple of boxes of trade-ins and donations while Noctis went through the closing procedures.

The front door opened. Noctis whirled around, prepared to smite whoever dared enter.

“Oh. It’s just you,” Noctis said, forgoing a greeting (or a threat). “Sorry, we’re closed. You have to leave.”

“Don’t give me that crap. I’ve got three minutes yet. Besides, I come bearing gifts,” Gladiolus said, depositing the two, heavy-laden bags on the counter. Noctis squinted in his direction, then peered inside the paper sacks. To his relief, Gladiolus had already sorted and marked the books according to author and genre. He hummed, determining that Gladiolus would be allowed to live. If he was potentially stuck here a little longer, at least the task wouldn’t be arduous.

“Damn, this is the best turnout I think I’ve seen,” Gladiolus observed. He watched Noctis distributing his haul amongst the boxes at his feet. “Anything good come in?”

“Dun know,” he said idly.

“Would you recommend  _anything_ here?” Noctis shrugged. Dubious, Gladiolus asked, “You work in a bookstore and don’t have a single favorite?”

“I read,” Noctis said, pointedly not sulking at Gladiolus’ implications.

“I’m not talking about comic books.”

 _Now_ he might be sulking. “Madam calls them graphic novels and they do count.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed. “Alright, here.” Gladiolus reached into one of the bags he’d brought and rummaged around until he found a small book. It was lovingly worn at the corners and the spine was bent, but it looked to be in fairly good condition. The cover was blank, minus the title, which was written in blocky script.

“No,” Noctis said without giving him a chance to say anything more.

Not so easily swayed, Gladiolus held it towards him and said, “You’ll like it. It’s short and has just as much adventure as those picture books you’re so enamored with.”

“If it’s so good, then why are you giving it away?” he asked.

“It’s a spare. My neighborhood book club gave it to me, so I thought I’d pass it along.”

“ _Book club_ ,” Noctis muttered under his breath, not surprised at the revelation. Apparently when he wasn’t busting Noctis’ ass on the practice mat Gladiolus lived in the pages of a novel. Ones that smelled funny and were postdated M.E. 520.

“Lookit, I’ll make you a deal,” Gladiolus said, pressing the novel closer. “If you give the book a chance, I’ll shorten your next session by twenty minutes. Consider it extra credit.”

“What? Really?” Noctis couldn’t believe it. Gladiolus  _never_ budged on his regimens, except to try and extend them or incorporate harder practices. Every callus on Noctis’ hands could be accounted for because of him. It sounded too good to be true. “I don’t have to like this book, right?”

“Hah! Doesn’t matter, since you’re going to love it, but so long as you can prove you made an attempt you can leave early,” he consented.

“Fine. I’ll see you then,” Noctis agreed. Since he’d finished his tasks for the evening, he got started right there by diving into the book. He ignored Gladiolus’ sniggering as he made his leave. And that’s how Madam found him a few minutes later, skimming the book and having to herd him out the door.

And the next day it was Prompto who caught him sneaking peeks between them taking turns on the most recent shooter game at the local arcade.

 _And then_  Ignis had to steer Noctis in the correct direction of the car or remind him to eat his dinner when he was fully and totally engrossed in the book.

By the time his meeting with Gladiolus rolled around, Noctis had finished the book and had no qualms shoving it in the other boy’s chest and holding it there. Staring him in the eye, he simply demanded, “ _Where’s the rest, asshole?_ ”

Gladiolus let out the heartiest, most obnoxious, self-righteous laugh he’d ever heard. Noctis didn’t care that Gladiolus had been right; he did end up enjoying the book. For the first time in, frankly,  _forever_ Noctis had been unable to sleep because he’d needed to finish the story. What ended up aggravating him instead was the fact the author had left off on multiple cliffhangers and Noctis had been agonizing over them ever since.

“Ask Madam for the whole set,” Gladiolus had the nerve to suggest. He set the book on a nearby bench, alongside the rest of their dufflebags, to retrieve their gear.

“Isn’t paying her like paying myself?” Noctis asked.

“Think of it as a shortbread cookie fund so that she can keep making them. Today she should be finishing a fresh batch,” he said.

“Hn.” Noctis caught the sword Gladiolus tossed him by the hilt, giving it a little twirl to adjust his grip and test the balance. The equipment at the Citadel was topnotch, the blade responding to every flick of his wrist with no resistance. Satisfied, he took up a stance a short distance on the mat. “Can you at least tell me if the protagonist is really the dragon slayer of legend?”

Gladiolus took up a much larger blade, it resembling the greatswords he’d been favoring as of late. As he walked across the mat to stand opposite of him, Noctis amended his footing in preparation for the kind of tactics Gladiolus might exploit with such a weapon.

“My lips are sealed.”

Glowering, Noctis didn’t wait for Gladiolus to assume his own stance before charging in. Persistently, he asked, “What about her friend? Is  _she_ actually the dragon slayer?”

“No—” Gladiolus deflected his attack, “—spoilers.”

Noctis made a strangled noise and struck low. Without breaking stride, Gladiolus’ sword locked with his. “Sorry Noct, you’re just gonna have to read the series like the rest of us. I’ll compare notes with you then.”

There was no other option. When Gladiolus released him from training early, as promised, Noctis used it to rush to Madam’s bookstore  _on his day off_  to purchase the other five volumes in the series. At least he did get one of the aforementioned shortbread cookies out of the trip.  
  
  
  
  
On the last day of Noctis’ winter vacation the shop was  _packed_. Most of the customers were focused on purchasing textbooks for the upcoming term as opposed to gaping at him. A few harried looking individuals swooped in and out to buy the cheaper, used copies of books intended for winter break. One particularly harried looking guy sited that the libraries were picked clean. It made Noctis relieved he hadn’t procrastinated on his own studies for once.

His friend hadn’t quite done the same. Prompto was visiting the store to 'go over his notes’ and 'compare answers’, which translated to 'help me Obi-wan, you’re my only hope’. Not that anyone could tell how panicked Prompto had been earlier; as soon as he’d arrived and seen the selection of prospective dates he’d set in on flirting with every single-looking girl there.

Noctis was in the middle of ringing up the next customer in line when he spotted Gladiolus walking in. He nodded his head at the other boy to acknowledge him, then finished up with the sale. It was the same girl he’d seen a couple weeks past, the one who purchased the book on frogs. She was back for more; these ones were about toads and salamanders. Noctis complimented her on the choices she made and moved on to the next person.

Gladiolus waited on the side, holding a boba drink in each hand, before approaching the counter. He commented, “Looks like business is good today” and plunked Noctis’ drink on the desk, tucking it beside the register and out of sight.

He turned his head toward Prompto, who was still striking out but making a valiant effort, then over to Madam, who was entertaining Ignis. His advisor had arrived early with the car and somehow gotten roped into a conversation about the merits of what kinds of sugar to use in sticky toffee pudding. Ignis avidly jotted down a bunch of notes in a black notebook, listening intently to Madam’s every word and hand gesture.

People browsed the store at a pretty average rate. There was a wider mix of ages as school loomed closer, parents being dragged in by their kids or older siblings accompanying their brothers or sisters. Most customers already had one of the owner’s treats, boba drinks, or other items from the local shops in hand.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Noctis said.

“You sticking around during school or is today your last day?” Gladiolus needled.

“I’ll have to cut my hours, but I thought I’d hang out here a little longer.” Noctis had a quick answer, having already thought ahead about the decision. He didn’t want to give up the best study period he’d ever had, plus Madam had bribed him with the first run of all the upcoming books in the series Gladiolus got him hooked on. The author’s grandchildren had taken up the mantle to continue the story and the prospect of knowing where it was supposed to go made it hard to say no to  _that_ sort of offer.

“Heh, Madam must have loved that news. I knew you’d be a good luck charm for this place, but I had no idea Mr. Popularity would revitalize the whole district.” Something about that statement felt off. It must have been apparent all over Noctis’ face because Gladiolus clarified, “Who did you  _think_ gave Ignis the posting for this job?”

To be honest, Noctis hadn’t ever thought about it, nor had he cared. He was just glad to have found something that wasn’t working in fast food. Noctis hedged, “Ignis never said…”

He still sensed like he missed something vital in the conversation, but Gladiolus looked superior enough. As if Noctis was going to give him more reason to carry around a bloated ego.

“Doesn’t really matter. I didn’t do much,” he said, partaking of his drink. Noctis predicted the flavors just by the purple-ish hue, but he was kind of irked that Gladiolus knew to get him the same one they’d enjoyed before. It was easier to partake of vegetables when they were liquefied and sweetened. He could pretend this was anything but healthy. Halfway through his sip one point did occur to him. “Wait. Did you just call me Madam’s  _mascot?_ ”

“You’re cute enough.” Gladiolus didn’t deny it.  _Jackass_ was on the tip of Noctis’ tongue when he continued, his tone turning serious. “It’s more than that, though. Your reputation might have attracted people here, but your pretty boy face wasn’t what kept them coming back. Madam’s door is still open and Elise is set to inherit her family’s business if they keep earning like they are now. So give yourself some credit.”

Gladiolus’ eyes were so warm and open and Noctis couldn’t hold his gaze, so he took a large gulp from his boba to keep from splashing it all over his face to cool off. Hopefully his turtleneck hid the flush he felt creeping up his skin. In the end, all Noctis could manage to say was, “Fine. Okay.”

Chuckling, Gladiolus pushed off the counter. Another set of customers had walked up, this one a young couple with children’s books presumably for their daughter.

“Well, be seeing you around,” Gladiolus said. He winked, it very reminiscent of Noctis’ first day on the job, and left to get out of everyone’s way. Before serving the couple Noctis mentally groaned and wondered if it was too late to change his mind about staying on here.  
  
  
  
  
**Bonus** :

“Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight…”

Noctis ignored the counting Gladiolus did under his breath. He licked his thumb and turned the page of his book, instead. The final edition of their shared series had come out two days ago and he’d been engrossed in it every second he could squeeze in. This included after his combat training with Gladiolus.

“Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three…”

He’d decided going home wasted too much time that could be better spent on progressing in the story, so once Gladiolus had dismissed him for the evening he’d stuck around. And since Gladiolus was a glutton for punishment he’d kept up his own personal regime, which involved everything from strength exercises to aerobic suicide. When Gladiolus started in on his pushups he requested Noctis 'make himself useful’ by acting as extra weight.

“One-hundred, one-hundred and two, one-hundred and three…”

Turned out, Gladiolus’ back was the comfiest spot to read, anyway. They were currently back-to-back, Noctis lounging along the length of the other boy’s body as he stretched out to read. As an added perk, it allowed Noctis to discuss any points he found interesting. He had free reign, considering Gladiolus had finished the book in like  _five hours_  or something ridiculous because he had a quip for whatever topic Noctis broached. Which,  _annoying_ , but in the end it was to Noctis’ benefit, too.

“One-hundred and twenty-seven, one-hundred and fifty—”

“Hey, no skipping,” Noctis said, his eyes still scanning the page without losing  _his_ spot.

“Just testing if you’re paying attention. Where you at?” Gladiolus asked. He pulled his arm back, needing to rest it along Noctis’ stomach to keep it out of the way while he switched to the one-handed variety of pushups. Noctis lifted both elbows to make room and let them drop on top so he could resume relaxing.

“I’m at the part where the witch’s amulet reveals who the real dragon slayer is.”

“Supposedly,” Gladiolus said cryptically.

Halting partway through the paragraph, Noctis tucked his finger between the pages as he let his head drop between Gladiolus’ shoulder blades. “What do you mean  _supposedly?_ ”

“You’ll see.”

“Ugh.”

Gladiolus huffed, Noctis feeling the expansion of his back muscles pressing against his due to their close proximity. “You’ve only got a couple chapters left to go, you’ll make it. At least you’re not as bad as my sister. She refuses to even start a book until she’s read the epilogue first.”

What he  _didn’t_ suggest took a moment to register for Noctis, but as soon as it did his fingers clamped on the paper so he could flip through them at maximum velocity. Gladiolus protested, squirming under him until he dead dropped to the ground to unsettle Noctis completely.

“Don’t you dare skip ahead!” Gladiolus said. The two of them wrestled on the ground. Of course Gladiolus came out on top, putting Noctis in a headlock with one arm and using the other to hold the book away from him. “The fun is in the journey and reading isn’t a race.”

“Says the guy who can speed read,” Noctis sniped back, trying to disengage and failing hard. He tried every tactic he’d learned to retaliate and escape, but considering Gladiolus was the person in charge of teaching him those methods, it was no use. Noctis attempted to tap out, but Gladiolus was skeptical. “If I give the book back, how do I know you’re not going to cheat?”

“If you’re so paranoid why don’t  _you_ read it to me?”

And so Gladiolus did.

**Author's Note:**

> Some side notes that may or may not really be pertinent to the story: 
> 
> \- Madam is based off the people of Galahd, as referenced by her tattoos, braided hair, the coeurl sewn onto the clothes she first appeared in (according to [Nyx's bio, it's native to their homeland](http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Nyx_Ulric#Appearance)), etc. The Kingsglaive movie introduced the idea of refuges and social unrest, but in-game...not so much. So while I couldn't spin it big and do it much better justice, I still wanted to touch on it a little bit with Madam and her struggling bookstore. 
> 
> \- Elise is a practitioner of the [gyaru lifestyle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gyaru)! I know she's not in the story much, but I thought really hard about who Iris might hang out with. Considering Gladio was originally modeled after the yakuza with their tattoos I don't think it's far-fetched for his little sister to make friends with a rebel that likes to tan her skin and dye her hair light, as seen in some of the ganguro sub-genres. Insomnia tends to have a lot of dark-haired, pale citizens roaming about, making members like Prompto and Elise stand out! 
> 
> \- Boba is fucking delicious. That could be all the side note needed, but for those curious about the variety Gladio and Noct enjoyed in this story I found [this webpage to be very handy.](https://www.bossenstore.com/blogs/blog/how-to-make-delicious-taro-milk-tea-like-a-bubble-tea-shop)
> 
> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


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